


To the Heart of the Wilds

by Guivre_Rose



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Explicit for later, F/F, Femslash, God I hope this doesn't become another damn slow burn, I am so sorry if it does, Just another "look how these lesbians fall in love this time", Pharmercy, Probably because I am thirsty for this ship, WIW, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, rocket angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-10 00:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guivre_Rose/pseuds/Guivre_Rose
Summary: After the battle during a dark and stormy night, a desperate mother seeks help from the Witch of the Wilds in order to save her only daughter, in exchange for the Witch's freedom. Though the Witch will soon learn it will take more than just magic to save a soul from a demon's possession.Witch!Mercy and Possessed!Pharah AU. Based off the Halloween Event. Explicit for Later.





	1. A Door Closes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this idea sitting in my files since last October. I still really like it, and I figure we are all too thirsty for femslash of these two, so no one will care that it's from the Halloween event, right? After all, I don't judge anyone in-game for still having Mercy in her Witch skin. Witch Mercy is eternal, amirite? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> I ain't got time to get this Beta'd (and anxiety just shoots that idea in the foot, anyways), so read at your own risk. You WILL find mistakes.
> 
> Welcome to the dumpster, enjoy my trash contribution.

It could have gone better, she concluded.

Shackled not only by iron cuffs, she was chained down from every limb. Her neck, wrists, thrice around her legs. They had even wrapped the chain around her body several times for good measure before stubbornly bolting the entanglement of chains to the walls and floors. She had to credit them for at least trying to be thorough.

The sky crackled with light, followed by the distance rumble of the retreating storm. The storm's winds had left her, slowly dragging the dark clouds with them. Daybreak would arrive in just a few hours.

The guards' paranoid behaviors managed to serve them well.  Of course they had blocked the moonlight from directly reaching her. Even after all of the favorable conditions they had been offered had not guaranteed her ally's success. He had failed so spectacularly. The Reaper himself had been laid to rest, which had truly surprised her above all else. She admittedly was impressed by the old heroes’ efforts; from thwarting the mad doctor’s hordes of shambling abominations, to her own personal so-called servants, and even herself, all in one battle.

Which led her to wonder, what purpose was served by keeping her alive? She could likely imagine of a thousand reasons as to why. The Witch of the Wilds was sought after for many ambitions, whether to end them or set them into motion.

Which would it be this time? She wondered if it would ever be the former rather than the usually latter.

Clunking metal and tired gears squeaked, and the door from the spiraling stairwell above her swung open. She heard quiet steps that was only noticeable because of the echo that collected and amplifying them across the stone walls. A dim light illuminated and grew as the stranger approached the bottom of the stairwell.

A beat drummed in her ears. Chest thumping in the anticipation as the orange light grew stronger and coated the lonely dungeon in a warm layer of light.

Her eyes widened for a moment at the delicate looking woman, then with an arched brow, narrowed quickly in amusement.

“I figured it would be you, Ana.”

“You have no right to call me by name, witch.” She snarled, dropping her lantern to her side and trading her other hand to point at her. “Especially after what you did to Gabriel.” The old woman’s next words were meant to be hidden in her own foreign tongue, but the Witch’s magic lifted even language barriers from herself. Ana’s words were entirely unpleasant and unflattering, so she chose to pretend she that she could not understand the cursings.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on that,” The Witch responded dully, looking to the ground as if it were the actual living legend rather than the woman before her. “Another story to add to your already impressive legacy, no?”

The older woman clenched her fist, the leathers audibly tightening and voicing Ana’s frustration along with the lantern’s flickering glow. The Witch eyed the peculiar rifle that slung itself over Ana’s shoulder, wondering if her death might be quick or if the old Alchemist would draw it out as long as possible.

“Well then,” The Witch pressed, sighing quickly and wiggling within the makeshift cocoon of chains. “Please tell me of your plan. One of your bullets to get it over with? A potion- sorry, a _chemical_ , as you call them? Or are you so old fashioned that perhaps you will be conducting a stake burning? Drowning? Ah! Maybe even a hanging with-“

“I am not here to kill you, witch.” The Alchemist stated, stiffening. “While you deserve everything you listed, that is not my intentions. Not tonight, anyways.”

The Witch straightened. Her exhilaration vanished instantly, replaced by a pit of uncertainty. “Oh? This is surprising, I must say.”

Ana grumbled, setting down her lantern on the cold stone floor of the castle, and turned to the side.

“As much as it pains me to come here and to speak with you, I am afraid I have run out of options.”

“Oh no, my dear Ana, you can’t be serious. Are you proposing a contract?!” The Witch laughed, shaking her head. “Surely, you have to be jesting-“

“If that’s what it takes.”

She sputtered, choking on her own laughter. Nothing could convince her that the legendary Alchemist, Ana Amari, was not only passing up a chance to kill her, but was entertaining the idea for a potential contract that she was famous for preaching against.

It was too absurd, the Witch concluded. “Tricks are beneath you, Alchemist. We both know this.”

Ana inhaled deeply, kneeling down by the lantern that oddly dimmed itself, as if to show Ana’s flickering resolve. “This is no trick. I come to you not as the Alchemist so many know me as….but simply as a mother.”

The Witch’s mouth drew itself in, thinned into a firm, disappointed line. She glared at the old woman. Along with a harsh, unreadable glare, her silence was all she offered to prompt Ana to continue.

“It happened two long years ago." The Alchemist adjusted herself to where she leaned against the wall, further from the Witch, yet somehow more casual and easier to listen to as she look up at the pitifully lone window. "My poor child, my only child….my daughter, she had just been appointed Captain of the Watch. Their previous captain died from an attack…one not unlike the one you and your deranged Doctor of a slave waged tonight.”

The Witch bit back inside her cheek at the accusation of ‘slave.’ Anger bubbled in her stomach to her throat, raging at the absolute ignorance that it held, not just for the Witch, but for those that she forged her contracts with. An odd form of protectiveness swelled up for all of those she held contracts with. To call them slaves only served to devalue their stories into boring, pitiful tragedies. It was pointless to be furious, she knew, and futile to even begin to explain the complexities of a witch’s contract to someone as simple-minded as this old fool.

So, she held her tongue. Allowing Ana continue on with what was sure to be a sob of a story, something every witch was all too familiar with.

“Another monster. Perhaps an angry spirit? A demon? I know not what it was, for I was not there. It came at the end of the attack, when all the guards had lost their strength. I was told it nearly slaughtered them all. Yet my daughter fought so bravely, and had led all of the townspeople to the safety of the temple they all had sworn to protect. And they say that as she did, she…she was taken by a beast.”

Ana paused, looking down, clearly troubled by merely retelling the fate that befell her daughter.

“And you have failed to find her yourself.”

“Oh, I found her not several weeks later after I was contacted. What I found was not what I imagined. I believe the beast that took her was no more than a twisted entity looking for a vessel. What lived within was truly something not of our world...something I cannot describe as anything else but evil….and it was looking for another. Something stronger and fiercer than the beast it had taken.”

“If what you say is true, then what you speak of is most likely a demon.” The Witch noted, already wishing to detach herself from where this was leading. “Not even I-“

“Don't!” Ana slammed her fist to the wall above the witch, cutting her off immediately. “Do not even begin to say that! It is just the same as it was with Gabriel! Then you tricked him-“

“Yes and no,” The Witch responded calmly, dismissing Ana's ire, feeling tired and unwilling to divulge in any details on that poor man’s life. “He was long since possessed before I had even crossed paths with him. I simply found….a compromise.”

“You enslaved him!” Ana accused with a jab of a pointed finger.

“I...took control. It was the only way.” That I knew how at the time. The Witch chose not to say the last part aloud, too proud to admit to her own limitations to this already doubter of magic.

Ana paused, obviously expecting her illuminated mask to hide whatever expression the witch merely could guess to see. The Witch did not need magic to see that Ana was being pulled by so many conflictions.

“….when I found the previous beast that this demon had taken, I had no choice but to slay it. I had hoped that my daughter would not be far. Curious, I took what remained of the body and analyzed it. I believe it was once nothing more than a large cat, perhaps a lion or a leopard from a distant land, if you could believe that. Not only that, but that the creature I had put down had died long ago, and whatever that abomination was that I had confronted is the result of what was left. This demon, as you say, discarded that poor creature and destroyed in ways that I do not understand.” Her voice began to falter, causing the Witch to feel unfit to be in Ana’s presence during a moment of vulnerability. “And now it has my daughter! I must prevent what happened to that creature from happening to her!" 

Ana sighed heavily, weary, her mask making it sound all the more dramatic, broadcasting how the grieving mother was on verge of being broken.

"All my life," Ana resumed. "I have trusted science to give me the answers I sought. And the only answer I have is that this...this _thing_! It is something beyond the natural world...this is something else, something from _your_ world. While it pains me to say it, I simply cannot risk my daughter's life any longer. So here I am, setting aside my pride and everything I believe in to ask for your help."

“So what will you have of me? Simply free her of this possession?” The Witch scoffed, tossing her head and wearing a disgusted expression. “Let us say that even if I can drive out the demon, it will only seek to take another. And there is also the fact, if what you say is true and this demon willingly chose her, that it will not give her up willingly. If we are being optimistic and either of us survive this encounter, forcing it out will still undoubtedly kill your daughter in the process.”

Ana gasped as if the Witch had just physically cut her, turning away and shaking her head. “No! That cannot-“

“As skilled as I am, Ana, keep in mind, I have my limits.” She finally admitted, feeling a slight taste of sullied pride as she did. “You must surely know this by now, after tonight, and especially after you brutes shattered my staff.”

Ana rudely chuckled at the witch’s expense. “Was that the source of your power?”

She countered with a smug laugh of her own. “I’m sure you would like that, but surely not! Yet, it was detrimental to my work.”

There was a unsteady silence, the two harshly glaring at each other with clenched jaws.

The Witch broke the silence. “I must admit, I am curious. What is it that you propose, Alchemist?”

Ana stood rigid, like a bronzed statue, and practically recited her next words. “I will release you from this castle, from the Lord of this establishment, and you shall accompany me. I will take you to my daughter and you will drive out the demon.”

“So, my freedom is ensured as long as I ensure the same for your daughter?”

“…yes.”

“Then I refuse.”

Ana face contorted to a snarl, the Witch holding back a vindictive smile. “Then I will leave you to the Lord of the castle! I am sure he will have you put down as you should have been many years ago!”

“A gentler fate than that of your daughter.”

A flash of movement, and the Witch stumbled to her side, her face lit with a sudden burst of pain. She chuckled, already tasting the bloody copper in her mouth. Ana held up her hand in warning, more than willing to strike the Witch for her incredibly insensitive comment. The Witch knew she deserved it, so she wouldn’t hold it against Ana.

“Why.” Ana demanded more than questioned, her voice shaking in desperation. “Why do you choose death over something that must be so simple for one of your abilities?”

“Because,” The Witch paused to stretch her jaw, her left eye already squinting and watery. “Neither of us know what sort of demon that has latched onto your precious child’s soul. Nor do we know what it’s intentions are, or what it will do if challenged. Us ‘ _supernaturals_ ,’ as you mortals call us, tend to get a bit...cautious when we encounter each other. Let’s call it an unspoken courtesy that we don’t openly seek each other out.”

“So you will give up now, like the coward you are?!” 

The Witch tossed her head, moving her bright hair out of her eyes and sat up as straight as the chains would allow. “There are many, and I mean, _oh so many_ things that are far, _far_ worse than death, Alchemist. Demons, most of all, have mastered the art of exactly that.”

The Witch was taken aback by Ana’s following reaction. A look that softened dramatically compared to her former fury. A look that, in turn, infuriated the Witch herself. It was a look of pity.

“What happened to that sweet little girl you once were, Angela?”

The Witch’s eyes widened and she gritted her teeth, enraged. Fitting, how Ana seemed so annoyed to be called by her name from the Witch. She supposed she should have expected Ana to go just as low. The tone of the room seemed to shift into a color of red, growing thick and hot around them. However, Ana acted completely unphased.

“I will let you think over it, Angela.” Ana said, the Witch could even feel the smarmy smirk as Ana turned around. “For the sake of my daughter.” Ana retrieved her lantern, reaching in to dim the light within, and made her way back to ascend the staircase.

Ana paused for a moment after a few steps, loud enough for the Witch to hear. “And perhaps, for your sake as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a LOT of Overwatch (particularly Pharmercy) feels, and the ideas I have for these two are REALLY getting in the way of my other stories. So I figure if I just dig through and finish all my unfinished trash and post them online, it will clear up some creative space. Plus, having completed works HAS to boost a writer's confidence, right?
> 
> I'm one of those pesky writers that thrive on attention, so commenting is a surefire way to get me to post a new chapter much much faster. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	2. Wherever the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I adjusted a few details since I forgot that this is supposed to take place in autumn, being it obviously takes place AFTER the Halloween event. We can assume it takes place about mid to late November. Here I am, just idiotically writing over here while it's spring for me and have a lot of invading visuals of spring (which Breath of the Wild is totally to blame).

 As much as she did not want to admit, the Alchemist had a point.

The Witch’s eyes followed the stonework of the circular cell, her lower lip unknowingly jutting out as she wrangled with her unsteady thoughts. The mildew that encouraged the stale air and rot inside of this dungeon certainly must have been affecting her senses. Her current residence offered her no comfort, no warmth, and no escape. Only all of the time to explore her own troubled mind.

The Witch had already envisioned a countless amount of punishments that likely awaited her. She had even sorted them between the ones that would be quick and brutal instantaneous deaths; to ones that would be long, dramatic and drawn out over the length of her extended lifespan. She cringed to cross over the possibility of it lasting a century or two. That is, if the Lord of Adlersbrunn had the right people and preparations involved. Even judging from her treatment, she was unsure how the Lord of the castle felt towards her kind, something that was crucial in pinpointing wait laid in store for the Witch.

All of the ideas of her undoing were just as, if not moreso, unpleasant than the previous thought she could imagine. The Witch wrinkled her nose, helpless against the possibilities.

The only plausible alternative was traveling with that miserable old woman.  She sneered at the thought as she watched an athletic rat scramble up the dungeon walls and squeaking harshly, which unknowingly voiced the Witch’s resentment for the situation. Not only would Ana make for sour company, but the added dread as they would come to face a demon. Once the Witch offered her word, she would be bound until the task was complete.

The Witch sighed. Magic could be so fickle.

The source of her hesitation was the suicidal idiocy of it all. Confront a demon. One of unknown power. One that openly jumped from one possession to the next; to which the Witch guessed that it fed constantly off the body, mind and soul. Then to tear Ana’s daughter from its clutches, the likes of which the Witch had never even heard of being possible.

There was also to consider that if this daughter of the Alchemist was even remotely like her mother, such as to be worthy as a captain, certainly the demon would be reaping the benefits of a formidable vessel to begin with before contributing its own power. The Witch wondered if Ana had even thought of the certain possibility that she would be fighting against her own child.

The Witch had to play with these ideas in her head for several days. Sometimes she would muse with the idea of escaping on her own. Yet even she knew that in her current weakened state how impossible it was. Her staff was shattered, her wings were stripped, and everything else she had had surely been destroyed at the hands of her victorious enemies. Even her short sidearm pistol had been lost beneath the depths of the castle. At least her precious book, _the_ spellbook, had been spirited away moments after use once it had revived the Reaper, the Doctor and his hideous creation. But even through all of that, they had still been bested.

If even in the best of circumstances the Witch, with powerful allies, had still been defeated, what chance had she now?

Perhaps there was still a way she could slip away after Ana released her? Of course, that posed to be a poor choice, not just for the consequential wrath she would undoubtedly receive from Ana, but moreso from the magic she commanded.

The Witch grunted in frustration, the chains around her shivering and clinking together.  Should she agree to assist Ana….the Witch’s options to free Ana’s daughter were still extremely limited, as far as she knew. However, there just was more hope present than anything she could dare attempt on her own. 

The obvious solution the Witch kept falling back to, while simple, would end up turning the Alchemist utterly against her. If Ana currently despised her  _this_ much _now…_. Oh, how much Ana would utterly loathe the Witch after. Ana had fought against her so fiercely enoughly before, so the Witch would need to take extra care to prepare for the complete wrath that would follow. 

Yet that was still only a worst case scenario to but one plan, however much higher it promised to succeed than her other ideas. It would have to be a last ditch effort, she agreed to herself. Should Ana and the Witch fail, the Witch may come to be forced to create yet another creature similar to the Reaper...perhaps even worse! However, it could buy her the time she needed to fully regain her strength and prepare for whatever vengeance she would receive.

Even if the Witch of the Wilds could not detach a demon from some girl, then-

And there it was. Ignorant as any common peasant the old woman was when it came to magic. The Witch would still silently congratulate her for comparing her own daughter to the sad story of Gabriel Reyes. While it certainly was not her first choice, should things go awry, she could be at least be assured a powerful ally.

The Witch smirked, though it was weighed down by a string of doubtful thoughts. _I must not fail as I did with Gabriel._

* * *

 

As the stone walls were painted by the chilling blue of oncoming dusk, the Witch waited patiently until the nervous guards paraded down the stairwells to begrudgedly deliver her meager days old meal that they insisted to be food: a hardened, stale slice of bread and the peeled skin scraps from an apple. As they approached, the Witch smiled brightly at them. Despite her own impeccable beauty, the guards were not swayed by it and still held themselves wary. They therefore hated it when she smiled at them.

“What a shame,” She began. “You came down all those stairs and now you have to go right back up.”

The guards looked between themselves, put off by her condescending tone. Before they could say anything in return, the Witch rolled her head, untensing her neck and let out an overly exaggerated sigh as she shrugged her shoulders. As she shrugged, all of the chains fell away, spilled away into individual links as if they had never been held together at all. The guards yelped and reached for their weapons, and the Witch held up steady hand as she slow rises to stand.

“Ah ah!” She tried, clicking a noise from her tongue as if to scold them. “There’s no need for that, I assure you. How about this, while I stretch out, you-” She pointed at the guard in the middle. “-can go fetch the Alchemist. Meanwhile, you two-” She pointed with her thumb and pinky finger at the guards on either ends. “-can help me up the stairs and show me where actual food is served.”

They stared at her, hands still on the handles of their weapons. The Witch sighed again, picked up a handful of chain links, closed her fingers around them, and when she opened them, they coiled themselves around her wrists.

“Does that make you feel better?” The Witch teased. The guards looked amongst themselves, speaking through only eye movements and head gestures, until the one in the middle broke rank and rushed back up the stairwell.

The Witch hummed in approval, closing her eyes as she felt the dizziness swirl around her head. It caused her to wobble in place for a moment. Her simple display of undoing the chains had been far too taxing, a testimony to how weak she had grown after the defeat on Hallow’s Eve. The guards, unfortunately, immediately saw her waver, and it was enough to transform their unsteady selves to more confident stances.

“Shall we?” She prompted once again. With the boorish guards accompanying her along the stairwell, complete with curses beneath their breaths and additional weighted stomps in their steps, the Witch was finally led out of her personal prison.

To promptly greet her behind the door at the at the top of the stairwell, were several more guards and Ana Amari herself. 

“Good to see you come to your senses, witch.”

 

* * *

  

Under the watchful eye of several guards, all standing rigid as stone carved gargoyles, they stood along the walls of a makeshift dining room. The Witch felt it was more regularly used as an interrogation room, the absence of windows and decor of any sort being her clues.

The Witch acted as if she paid them no mind as she ate, but made note of the particularly more nervous guards.  They had relinquished to her some hastily cooked vegetables, bread that was still soft in its core, and two cooked yet cold meat legs that once belonged to an unfortunate duck. Ana only had a ceramic cup steaming with what had to be some exotic dark tea from the Lord of the castle’s personal reserves.

“Do you have any idea where your daughter might be?” The Witch offered, feeling the faintness ease from her body as she ate.

“That I do,” Ana answered. Her ghoulish mask was finally off, revealing her aged and tired face. Though the Witch did not allow herself to react at first during their encounter on the battlefield, nor did she allow the indulgence to allow a reaction now, but the eyepatch over Ana’s right eye was a new addition since she had last seen her so many years ago. _More rather a subtraction_ , a wicked part of her wished to laugh at, yet she failed entirely to act upon the twisted humor. There was a gnawing curiosity to know who or what had gotten the best of the Alchemist, though the Witch doubted that Ana would ever share that tale.

Ana explained her progress over the past few months, many of the details that the Witch could not help but tune out as the old woman prattled on. The Witch acted mildly interested, however convincing it was, she did not care. Thankfully the food was a good enough distraction. All that she truly needed to know was that her daughter had been seen roaming great mountains to distant south of this castle. 

The Witch paused herself, feeling an unpleasant tightness inside her chest over the mention of the area.

 _Of all the places her daughter had to flee...That is awfully close._ The Witch would never say aloud.

She had long since learned to not dismiss coincidences. Especially when her instincts flared up to shake her into a state of discomfort. The Witch vented her unease by biting harshly into a partially cooked carrot, easing her brow as soon as she noticed she was furrowing it deeply enough for Ana to notice.

Curse the old woman for being so sharp! 

“I was thinking that I may even have to journey as far, perhaps, around Zurich-” 

The Witch slammed her hand against the table, startling the guards enough for them to draw their weapons and aim at her. Curse this woman for knowing how to get on her nerves! 

Ana chuckled, easing the guards with a gentle hand gesture before taking a satisfied sip of her tea.  
  
“Do not test me, Alchemist.” The Witch said slowly, pushing her thumbs deeply against the sides of her index fingers as Ana finally silenced her laugh with a deeper drink of tea.

“Perhaps you are still more human than you care to show, eh, _little_ _angel_?”

The Witch of the Wilds inhaled roughly through her nose before pushing herself away from the table and standing sharply. She had entirely lost her appetite, thanks to Ana. The Witch could feel her blood pump with fury up to her ears. She felt several warning pricks of cold steel touch the skin of her back. The Witch calmed herself, breathing out unwilling steady breaths until the guards stepped away from her.

“Do you possess anything of sentimental value of your daughter’s?” Her voice was low, hardened to control her irritation from slipping back to anger. “It could be a memento of sorts, a keepsake. It must have once been of value to either her or for the both of you.”

Ana’s brow raised, calculating and trying to read the Witch, no doubt. She waited a long moment before answering. “I do, as luck would have it.”

“ _Wonderful_.” She said purposefully in the people of land’s native tongue, having no need of magic to do it for her. Clearly, it surprised some of the guards. “Then I require a full night of restful sleep. Then with whatever trinket you have of hers on your person, I will be rejuvenated enough to be able to have it lead us right to her.”

Ana set down her cup, then raised her chin, smiling a victoriously crooked smile. “Then I will see to it that a room is made for you, but not without-”

  
“Yes, fine, fine.” The Witch waved off the insinuations, uncaring of their suspicions with fatigue pressing so hard against her mind. “Have the whole garrison sleep outside my door, for all I care. Just allow me to sleep.”

Ana finished her tea, then, standing up herself, nodded.

“Very well. Will there be anything else?”

The Witch’s eyes squinted, knowing Ana meant to be condescending, but a smile of her own appeared. “Yes. A bath. I was left in a dungeon for quite some time after all.”

The sly old woman simply couldn't resist. “Of course. I would appreciate that you have one more than you do, actually. And perhaps some new clothes, though I honestly am unsure if your current dress is meant to be torn rags such as that. I prefer you dress with better dignity as to not draw unwanted attention to us.” 

The Witch snorted dismissively, refusing to let the petty jabs get to her. Ana shrugged, seeming barely disappointed to be unsuccessful in riling the Witch up this time, and turned to the guards to relay the Witch’s requests as if she was not in the room at all.

The old woman stepped aside to allow the Witch to leave the room with the first few guards. As she did, Ana quickly grabbed her, painfully digging her fingers into the Witch’s collarbone, and said something to her before the Witch jerked back from her grasp. It was regretably all Ana needed for the Witch to hear the animosity in her words.

“Be sure to sleep well, _Angela_.”

 

* * *

 

The Witch awoke to the soothing croon of an owl from the window, which had been cracked open to allow the previous cool autumn night air to sooth the Witch to sleep. She sighed gratefully as she felt the sheets beneath her, sliding her hands and arms along to relish in the soft dull blue cottons. After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes and was relieved to see that the sun was still waking itself beyond the horizon. The lazy pink and and soft golden glow from the incoming sun was all it had to offer at the for the next hour before it climbed into the sky for the day.

She wrapped a sheet around herself, glad to have demanded a bath last minute before retreating to this closet of a bedroom. The witch lightly scoffed at the realization that they would probably burn these sheets after she left. A shame, really, that their overactive superstition would waste such comfortable cloth.

  
Having barely touched the handle of the door, she heard movement on the other side, hurried and filling an acrid taste of panic tainted the air. With only a sheet to barely cover her youthful body, the Witch was practically giddy to unhinge the group of guards waiting in the hallway. The Witch nodded, prompting a force to open the door for her. Her barely covered form caused most all of them, even the female guards amongst them, to fluster in embarrassment, either for the Witch or for themselves.  
  
“While I could just walk around the castle naked, and I’m sure you’d all enjoy that more than I would.” She said coyly to them, offering a suggestive wink at the shortest guard as she spoke. The poor girl must have near fainted. “But since I think it would be preferred, could one of the staff be so kind as to get me the fresh clothes I never received from last night-”

“R-right away, no need, j-just-t-t-t stay in your room-!!” The tallest guard pathetically stammered and stumbled off to fetch a maid.

“So generous!”The Witch laughed, then waved to them. “My thanks!”

It was hardly a few minutes before a disheveled servant quite literally threw the bundle of clothes in the room for the Witch to catch and darting back out of the room. The Witch couldn’t help but stifle an almost cliched cackle before finally dressing herself. All brown and layers of baggy, robes. She had to giggle at their passive aggressive prudishness.

 _How presumptuously boring_. She clicked her tongue in thought. The Witch immediately adjusted the robes to her liking with several flicks of the wrist, reforming the fibers and creative suggestions with magic, moving it into new shapes until it fitted her more appealingly. It felt liberating to feel the use of magic flow from her with such each, however simple the task was. Though she left the one with the thickest of wool of a shade dark burgundy alone for the sake of comfort against the future cold.

At her behest, the door flung open without her even touching it, startling the guards once again. Her reformed clothes was probably an improvement from outright nudity, but they certainly acted about the same as if she was minimally dressed. Was it the glimpsing high cut, one that fluttered apart for only a moment  to show her legs as she walked, or perhaps the obviously show of cleavage? She mused as they fidgeted unprofessionally, then decided it was the former after seeing that most of their gazes had been aimed much lower than her chest.

Ignoring the entourage of guards behind her, it wasn’t long until she found Ana waiting by the top of the stairs.

“Tell me, Alchemist,” The Witch greeted with minimal respect in her voice. “How often have you spent your life waiting on others?”

“Not as nearly as long as you’ve spent terrorizing them.” Ana promptly replied. The Witch hummed to acknowledge her insult, hoping to show how ineffected she was by it. She looked over her shoulder in time to silence the guards Ana had drawn snickers from. “Now, do witches regularly start their mornings seducing the youth, or is that alone your signature specialty?”

The Witch’s eyes narrowed and she grinned wickedly back at Ana. What fun they were to have with their journey.

“Oh, it is so good you haven’t lost your humor in your old age. Pity that you couldn't keep your right eye as well.”

“ _Angela_.” Ana warned.

“ _Ana_.” She returned.

Ana let out a disapproving noise, akin to a growl, then turned heel first, missing the Witch’s triumphant smirk.

  
“We are already off to a late start. Our host was gracious enough to give us supplies-”

“To give you supplies.” The Witch corrected. “I will let us know if we are ready.”  
  
Ana paused, evening her breathing. “I’ve already overlooked-”

“You admitted to me nights ago that the task at hand is not of science, Alchemist, but of magic. Or did you already forget it was _my_ assistance that you begged for?”

Ana looked over her shoulder, holding a fierce glare and a tight gaze on the Witch. “Very well. Then I will help you make the proper preparations.”

As easy as it was to bask in the easy victory over Ana, The Witch only nodded. “Thank you. I want this fool’s errand to succeed as much as you do.”

 “To an extent, I’m sure.” Ana grumbled and led her along.

 

* * *

 

By the time they finally reached the stables to leave, the sun had well risen above the horizon into noon. The Witch was less than pleased with the supplies she was able to scrounge up from around the castle, but she did win some satisfaction from it. Ana was certainly imposing on the Lord of the castle’s hospitality by not only sparing the Witch to aid in her endeavors, but to tout her about the castle, and allowing her to demand what had to be the oddest of items. If Ana survived the encounter with the demon, then she would certainly need to win back the Lord’s favor for abusing his generosity so much. The thought was more than enough to help comfort the Witch.

As they waited for their last infringement on the Lord of the castle, the Witch was intrigued to see how few automations were throughout the castle. To her, it made the place feel rather archaic with the lack of diverse life other than human and animals. Surely, the late Doctor Junkenstein was to thank for making the inhabitants wary of any sort of semblance to omnics in the establishment. To be fair, his twisted “zomnics” were nothing like many of the peaceful omnics the Witch had encountered. Then again, for every several pleasant omnics, there was always an exceptionally nasty one. Yet that’s was a better ratio than humans.

Though it might be better that the Witch be spared both reminders of her defeat and the Doctor’s horrific abominations.

Two spotted gray horses come into their view, pulled by a dirty young teen who looked to bath only once a week despite his daily backbreaking work. The Witch looked between the horses, entirely unimpressed.

She turned her nose up at the stable boy. “No.”

Ana groaned. “Now what is it, witch? Is it the position of the sun or moon that somehow make these two horses unworthy?”

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.” She cut in. “Look! These horses are much too old! Their backs are so sunken in; we’d sooner break their backs or just fall right off them as soon as we get on. A journey such as ours, even without its perils, will surely kill one of them before we even reach the mountains!” She whipped around and bent down to eye level to glare directly at the stable boy.  “Is your Lord and Master so cheap as to spare us even two healthy horses? I know we are basically knocking on death’s door with this moronic quest , but _this-”_

Ana sighed, then pushed the Witch to the side and gently put hand on the stable boy. “Are there any other horses his Lord will not miss in particular, boy?” She leaned in as if to whisper to the boy, but only made it sound like a whisper without adjusting the volume of her voice. “I promise it’ll get rid of this miserable, brat of a witch if we just appease her.”

The Witch crossed her arms as she rolled her eyes.

He sputtered something unintelligible, trying and failing miserably to not make much eye contact with the Witch. As he scurried off, he didn’t notice the saddles unbuckle themselves off and float along to follow the witch to a pair of two dark, robust stallions. They tossed their heads at her in greeting, and she nodded at them with a kind smile she never offered to humans.

“These two crave adventure. They’ll do just fine.”

Ana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Come now, those two are clearly some of the best horses. We can’t just-”

The Witch leaned into an unattractive and throaty groan of frustration. “I swear! The only thing you excel in greater than battle is your ability to waste time!! Do you _really_ want to throw away more daylight arguing with me, then with the stable master over a couple a horses? All while that offspring of yours-”

“Alright, alright, have it your way!” Ana threw up her hands in defeat and simply watched the bridles adjust to both horses by themselves, guided by magic brought on by the twirling motion of the Witch’s forefinger. Ana grasped the reins of the taller, black horse and led it out of the stall quickly. The Witch simply mounted the pale maned and chocolate colored horse, patting its neck while not even needing to hold the reins as it followed Ana and her horse. Unbeknownst to Ana, a mischievous smirk and a welcomimg wave of the Witch’s hand at the old gray horses prompted them follow them as well.

By the time the stablemaster had come rushing in to give them a piece of his mind, the Witch, the Alchemist, and the four horses were already approaching the castle gates.

 

* * *

 

“That looks perfect.” The Witch observed the rolling hills, dotted with stray trees from the distant forests. She shifted her her saddle and looked back. “This should suit you just fine. Follow those birds and they’ll lead you to a gentle soul to look after you in your final days.”

The old horses nickered gratefully with an added toss of their heads and flick of their tails for the Witch and trotted away from them. They looked younger already as the tall grass welcomed them to the lush pastures.

“What?” The Witch huffed after hearing Ana make a flat, hum noise that she assumed to be displeasure. “Going to scold me for stealing a few horses now? I’ve been waiting for it for the past hour, so be out with it.”

Ana tilted her head, then looked forward to obscure a smile from the Witch. “No. I'm simply surprised that you are even capable of being selfless.”

The Witch tightened her jaw. “How do you know I didn't just do it play a trick on them? Perhaps to get that stable boy on trouble for being a blithering idiot? Or perhaps to even make you look like a fool for-”

“I think,” Ana spoke above her to cut off her rambling. “That maybe, it is because you were only thinking of the poor creatures, something no one at that castle probably has done in years.”  

The Witch harrumphed, snapped at the reins and gave an encouraging nudge to urge her horse to resume a quick trot. Ana snickered to herself before following her.

“Though I wouldn’t put it past you if it was for any of those reasons you just listed." Ana shrugged it off and began to ride on ahead. "But it is something Angela would have done."  

 

* * *

 

Once the Witch had forgotten her annoyance towards Ana, the town and castle were nothing more than specks in the distance. She stretched out within the warm reaches of the tiring sun. Winter was subtly warning of it's coming presence through through in the sharply chill wind, but The Witch still found it oddly refreshing. She had to admit that she had her doubts she would ever even feel the sunlight on her skin again.

Despite the unwanted approval she had gained from the Alchemist over the horses, Ana was still quietly seething in bitterness over the Witch’s unnecessary demands at the castle. Griping along and  was mumbling about having to deal with it later, was enough to silence Ana from any conversation for the first stretch of their journey. This further served to satisfy the Witch.

Only stopping for breaks on behalf of the horses, as the Witch insisted, she made good use of time to collect anything that she felt may assist in this foolish quest. The Witch also did so to purposefully avoid Ana without outright abandoning her.

But even that only lasted so long.

“I need to hear it, Angela.”

The Witch stiffened, hurriedly corking the bottle to steep the fresh sage leaves with a previous creek’s pure water for her own uses. “What now, Alchemist?”

“You have had plenty of chances to magic yourself away,” Ana said with a dramatic wave of her arm over her head, which caused the Witch to roll her eyes. “And while I appreciate that you haven't, that isn’t enough.”

 _Here we go._ The Witch gracefully turned on her heel to fully face the old woman.

“Your word, Angela. I need your absolute word.”

“What word would you like?” The Witch toyed, and yet secretly following her required formalities. Albeit very vaguely. “Remember, you must be specific!”

A fleeing cold breeze weaved between them, dodging through their even greater frigid tension. The sun was beginning its departure enough to begin draining the bright colors from the sky.

“You must promise me, Angela,”  Ana started slowly, threateningly. “You must promise me that you will do everything within your power to bring back my daughter.”

“Which daughter?” The Witch tested.

Ana snarled. “Don't you dare mock me, witch! Not now! I have but only one child-!”

“But did she ever have a name?” The Witch withdrew her sharp tone, attempting more to make this transition easier. She knew it would sully the pact if she had to explain it, not to mention that Ana would feel more defensive if she felt she was being talked down to.

“I know enough to know that it is always best to make sure a witch never knew one’s real name.” Ana snarled as she took a daring step forward, actually tempting the Witch to take a step back. “While that is far too late for me, I intend to protect my daughter in any way I can. Including from you.”

The Witch sighed, feeling the tingling magic delude itself from their presence already. _You're only making this harder, Ana._ She wanted to say, but knew it would be of no use.

“You will promise me, or I will make sure to throw you into the deepest and darkest dungeon this world has to offer,” Ana spoke even louder and with finer clarity than before. “Angela, you will promise that you will do everything within your powers to free my daughter from this fate worse than death. Look me in the eye as you say it!”

The Witch swallowed, stretching her hands out and flexing them before balling them into fists again. Locking her eyes with Ana’s one, then calmly stated:

“I will do everything in my power to save your daughter.” 

The Witch inhaled sharply as she felt invisible cords bind into her skin and sink into her bones. It was worse than the chains she had been encased in back at the dungeon, and while they weren’t physical, she was even more trapped by this promise than imprisonment by stone, iron and steel.

It was done. There was no going back for the Witch now.

“Now this nameless daughter of yours-”

Ana bared her teeth and looked ready to strike the Witch. 

“Since you refuse to tell me the name that you gave her, so be it. But I need a name, regardless.” She held out her hand. “As well as he keepsake I asked for.”

Ana looked at her hand, then back at the Witch. The Alchemist swallowed, hesitating, then reached for the inside of her coat. The Witch waited patiently, still holding out her hand until Ana procured a small blue pouch, untied it, and dumped the contents into the other hand. She looked into her hand, her fingers blocking a view from the Witch to see what the curious item could be. The mother stared at them for a moment, a look of grief washing over her face, then closed her hand tightly and moved to hand it to the Witch.

The Witch quickly pulled her hand back, but only slightly, and grabbed Ana’s wrist with her other hand, looking her hard in the eye. Before Ana could protest, the Witch squeezed, not tightly, but enough to bar her from speaking.

“If you truly wish to avoid a contract with me, yet still wish to find your daughter, I cannot ever return that which you will give me.” The Witch explained, feeling it of utmost importance Ana be aware of this ritual. “Once you place it in my hands, it is no longer yours. I alone can safeguard it, but it will only wish to return to the one we deem it to find. If you, or anyone besides myself or your daughter so much as touch this, the spell will vanish. And make no mistake, an item cannot receive such spells twice. Limits, as I said. This is how we will find your daughter.” 

“But this will only be to find her?” Ana asked, her voice distant, saturated with worry. 

“Only to find her.” The Witch confirmed with a nod.

Ana looked at her full hand, clearly saddened, but the look left her to be replaced by pure conviction. She put a hand on the Witch’s that covered her wrist and at once, they both let go and the Witch offered her right hand again.

Ana carefully deposited the keepsake in the Witch’s hand, whom closed it in turn without so much as looking at it. She held it to her lips, only noticing that it felt cold, metallic, and was not just a single, solid item. Pushing a breath to go between her fingers, she looked only at Ana.

“A name.” She ordered once more.

“Pharah.” Ana offered. 

The Witch spoke, but her words would only be familiar to those who knew magic. “I  _beseech to find the one whom answers_ _as Pharah. She bears the legacy of the Amari family. She is the sole child of the Alchemist, Ana Amari. Find the one who would answer to this name.”_

She blew a steady stream of air as she opened her hand, an azure glimmer bending the air around that revealed the golden beads in her hand. There was a dark lock of hair still entrapped within some of the ornaments to make up only part of what must have been a complete strand.

The Witch admired the craftsmanship of them for a moment, then carefully tucked them away to a designated pouch of her own. Already she could feel a pull suggesting she look due south, towards the snow capped mountains.

“Good.” She said aloud, seemingly relieving some tension from Ana. “You’ve chosen an excellent keepsake to find your daughter. I can feel that there is a powerful connection between you from it. Although, had I known that you had a lock of her hair, I could have maybe-”

“So it worked?” Ana demanded, the feel of icy doubt in her voice when she took a step towards the Witch. “Do you know where my daughter is?”

The Witch bit the side of her tongue, narrowing her eyes at the Alchemist. Reminded how she had to be more careful to not become so easily casual around Ana. While having known her before she was taken into the throes of magic did help, especially in that tracking spell, it also served to put the Witch at a serious disadvantage with Ana.

“You were right that there is a good chance she is within those mountains. At least find some comfort that you haven’t completely wasted your time, Alchemist.” The Witch said flatly as she reached for her cloak’s collar behind her shoulders to wrap it around her head. “We should reach her within the week.”

“No,” Ana declared, standing up straighter, taller. “I've waited long enough, and so has she. We find her by three days time. I expect you to deliver, witch.”

The Witch let Ana pass her, headed for the horses to resume their journey. She sighed, still feeling the ache in her bones coupled by the bothersome pull the of keepsake for Pharah.

How so very tired she felt. She glanced around, partly wishing to take in and admire the scenery of the fields and thickets of trees surrounding her, that for now, was still pure and untouched by humans. There was still fiery autumn colors amongst the leaves in trees, standing out against most of the eternally dark green forest. The yellowing tall grass around her tickled her knees, and as she breathed out, she felt the small comfort it offered. Just a few dead leaves passed her from the dragging breeze, such as the seasons, this was only temporary. Just another exchange for a witch to carry out and complete her duties. Yet, she could not stave off the sense of dread by involving herself with another that was once closely tied to her past. Before she became a witch. That particular arrangement had ended in such failure, and what with the similar circumstances the current task had with Ana....The Witch could not help but feel wary that she was treading down that dark path once again.

Nevertheless, she turned to regroup with Ana, feeling as though she was being dragged to visit her own grave.

 

* * *

 

The days that follow provide little interaction between the two, the juxtaposition of their beliefs being laid bare after the first night of Ana’s ultimatum. The Witch had made the oversight to prepare a meal for two.  Up until that point they had not outwardly coordinated together to eat and had found and enjoyed sustenance on their own. Ana, of course, would have nothing to do anything the Witch touched, thinking it to be poisoned or tainted in some way, and henceforth insisted that they strictly continue to prepare their own food from then on.

“Have it your way. Less effort for me.” The Witch shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the sting that came at the prick of Ana’s blatant refusal. The Witch scolded the feeling, cursing her long lost mortal self for resurfacing with a pathetic pining just to revive any sort of connection that she once held with past associations, such as Ana Amari. After all, Ana would purposefully refer to her as her mortal name, Angela, only in the frame as an insult. Angela and the Witch could no longer be referred to as the same person, the Witch reminded herself. The Witch had a solemn duty to crush any old feelings that resurfaced when there would be nothing to nurture it with. 

In petty retaliation, the Witch had been so tempted to remind Ana on how ironic it was that for someone so adamant about the superiority of science, had found it so useless to rescue her daughter. Not to mention that Ana should be glad to have found a witch unfortunate enough to be blackmailed into rescuing her daughter for her. But that would undoubtedly remind Ana of their bitterness, and in the long run, the negative emotions and energies it attracted simply was not worth it.

“Alchemist,” the Witch called gently, ducking under the low hanging branches of the trees. The trees were starting to become closer together, grow taller, and she could already hear the soundless whispers within the forest. Her blood felt charged and restless with excitement to return to the deepest depths of the wild.

“What is it, witch?” Ana’s now raspy voice responded with after several attempts.

The Witch knew she was going to regret this. “Tell me a story of your daughter.”

“What?” Ana looked incredulously at her, her one eye wide and flaring with a sudden anger. “Why would I ever tell you-” 

“Calm down, it is not for me. Magic is a conduit for many things, Alchemist.” The mentally exhausted Witch explained. “Think of magic as a boat along a river, and your love as a mother as the river itself. Tell me, is it the boat that guides the river, or the river that carries the boat? This is the force that is taking us to you daughter, but we will reach her that much faster if you will reinforce it with a meaningful story.”

 “I won't deny the appeal when you put it that way, but is that the sole reason?” Ana asked. The Witch cannot tell if she is doubtful or simply curious.

“Magic moves more freely in places such as these forests." The Witch subtly deflected. "The deeper we go, the more I can tap into it. The stronger it is, the stronger the link.”

“And the stronger you become?” Ana said darkly with a raised eyebrow, now clearly suspicious as ever.

The Witch offered half a smile, feeling it pointless to answer. Ana would never trust her, even if the Witch was weak and starved of magic in the deepest of dungeons within the thickest and dirtiest of human cities. Ana surely felt that would never feel safe around the Witch that took over the form a young woman she once knew. To confirm Ana's suspicions about the forest's effects would only make her that much more insufferable to work with.

“Those hair ornaments,” Ana relented. “When my daughter was but a child, I, of course, used to help dress her everyday. Fixing up her hair always came last. One day, at the age of five, she felt she was too old to receive any of my help. She insisted that only she should dress herself. And, I will admit,” Ana chuckled at the memory. “She did quite well. But she always had a hard time braiding it properly, let alone adding anything else.

"She would do it half a dozen times before finally allowing me to assist, always so grumpy when she failed. There was a time when I had left for some time, probably for a bounty, and so she had no choice but to rely on herself. After I had returned, her nanny came to me and had said she almost cut short all of her hair! It had gotten so tangled with no one to fix it!” She laughed outright, but the laugh died quickly. “Even when her nanny had tried to help her, my little girl said, “No! Only mother can touch my hair like that!” And when I returned, she gave me a hug and wouldn't let go until I sat down with her and showed her how.

“Eventually, even though she did learn to do it herself, she would always ask me to finish up at least one of the usual four we would do...before I knew it, it had became special to her. And for me. Then, as she got older, and as things go when a girl becomes a woman, we started to agree on less and less things. So much that she stopped wearing them altogether. But after-” She paused and regretfully gestured to her covered missing eye. “...after what happened to me, and word came back to her that I had been assumed killed on a mission, she also believed I was dead for many years. I’m told after she heard that I had died, she began wearing them again. To think, that she kept them with her after all this time. She’s taken good care of them, too. They don’t even look a day old since the day I gifted them to her.”

The Witch’s brow knotted, holding herself together as if she had never met this woman nor cared for her plight, her suffering, the yearning to be with her daughter once more. The concern vanished the moment Ana lifted her head to look in the Witch’s eyes. She averted her gaze in time, forgetting the sympathy from a moment ago. Clenching her reins, the Witch expected an increased tug from the tracking spell.

More than that, it was like a sudden punch to her gut and wanted to yank the Witch’s bones from her body. The Witch opened her mouth and felt even the gasp of awe being stolen from her mouth. A rush of dread, anguish, and frustration hit her so suddenly. Ferocity, determination, and weariness followed a moment later. These feelings were not of her own, that much was obvious. The Witch doubled forward, tightening her grip on the Pharah's keepsake (which she had secretly been holding during Ana's story) in case she dropped them.

“Angela?!” Ana leaned forward, reaching for the Witch against her better judgement.

Shakily, she batted off the Alchemist’s pestering hands while trying to hold onto the horse braying back at her in concern as he stomped his feet.

“What was that just now? Goodness, you’re shaking, and paler than usual-”

“She’s alive. She’s here.” The Witch rushed to say in gasps, holding her chest that contained her erratically beating heart. She did not know how to say that she had been right about the demon as well. It was one thing to deduce their enemy, but another to indirectly meet it. 

“Are you certain-?” Ana demanded, her voice urgent and desperate.

“I-I felt her. Somehow, your beloved Pharah is still present. So strong to have lasted so long…”

Ana made a noise, a gasp or a cry. It was grateful but a pained noise nonetheless. Ana quickly clapsed a hand over her mouth to silence herself.

“Don’t celebrate just yet, though she lives, her struggle is….nothing of which I can even comprehend.” The Witch urged her horse companion forward, but a dizziness hit her between the eyes.

Even in the midst of the forest, a tapping just to find someone had exhausted her already? The Witch felt unsure, worried at the two possibilities. Either she still had even longer yet to fully recover from her defeat at Adlersbrunn, or the demon’s influence had stolen all of her reserves. Both realizations concerned her, though hopefully it was not a mix of the two. 

“We must rest, I can’t have you falling off your horse when we are so close to Fa-Pharah.” Ana pushed the Witch back onto her saddle to straighten her up, the Witch not even noticing her near slip of words. “If you have any strength left in you to find us some shelter in this mysterious place, do it. We leave as soon as you regain your strength.”

The Witch wanted to thank her, but exhaustion and pride only allowed her to nod. She swallowed her dry mouth, fatigue scraping against her throat, and leaned back onto her horse for support.

 

* * *

 

The Witch dares to be hopeful. She was clearly able to feel Pharah's resolve, her pain, and what fury that still burned in her even after two years of possession. Perhaps this could all end simply, with no need for her resorting to any contingencies and allowing the Amaris to leave the wilderness together. Whole without any witches or demons to interfere.

She laughed at herself. Life and magic both rarely, if ever, promised such happy endings. The Witch was living proof of that.

Ana’s excitement had drained quickly, her previous benevolence forgotten and replaced by a festering worry that slowly showed signs of wearing her into madness. Ana's constant looks about into the forest depths, cursing the overgrown paths and anxiously looking to the skies blocked by the canopies of tree branches’ reach. Fear of the unknown, something the Witch knew from Angela's past was something that Ana had difficultly coping with. The Witch muses at the idea of how she must embody that fear of Ana's.

The Witch’s worries did not quell as soon as Ana finally noticed that the branches had been openly moving out of the way above them, allowing the bright moonlight to follow them as they strode through the forest. It was a more subtle way to at least light their way, one that the Witch enjoyed much more than torchlight or lanterns. The Witch felt it hard to focus with an antsy Alchemist, however justified she was with being wary. Without thinking, she extends a branch of still fresh wild berries to Ana to snack on and distract her for a few more minutes. The horses had been kind enough to point them out to the Witch. 

For a moment, Ana almost takes an offered branch of berries. Alas, Ana smacked them to the ground, and roughly kicked against her horse to go ahead of the Witch without so much as a usual snide remark. The Witch sighed, shrugging in defeat. _Let her stew in her worries, then._

The Witch considered for several minutes, thinking better than to suggest to Ana that they make late camp. However, the chill and slight wind passing through the wind carries forth a smell of smoke, lightly scented with cooking meat and spices. The Witch wrinkled her nose, finding the stink pointing out the presence of mortals. She glanced about, wary of how close they could be to Ana and herself. The forest is already more quiet of itself, further confirming for the Witch.

“There’s a settlement of sorts nearby, perhaps a village.” The Witch pointed out, knowing that Ana could not be so foolish as to pass up an opportunity such as that. Ana turns around, seemingly unconvinced until they both hear the shouts of several men. For a moment, she looks relieved, but the nature of the shouts sounded alarmed and steals away the moment of rest.

“Either they are very brave to live out here, or very foolish.” The Witch voiced her thoughts aloud. “Funny how easy it is to confuse the two.” She turns to her unwilling elder companion. “We don’t need to stop there, Ana, though I understand the stress must be a lot on your old bones. In any case, I would advise that we do. We must both be in our top form for the moment we find that demon.”

Before Ana can shoot back a retort, a sharp snapping of dead twigs and shuffling footsteps in the piles of fallen leaves grabs their attention. A man crossed into their view and turned on spot to see them immediately. His face lit up with relief, almost glee, then bolted towards them.

“Travelers!" He waved his arms frantically over his head as if they did not plainly see him charging at them on foot. "Travelers, we are in need of your assistance!”

“Don’t go asking the first people you see, you gargling murloc brained bafoon!” Another man came up wheezing, trying to keep up with the younger man. “If anything, tell them to turn around!”

“You want us to turn back?” The Witch asked lazily, not at all reacting to the two men and instead using the time to adjust her gloves.

“Yes/No!” They both shouted at the same time, then glared hotly at each other.

 “We _need_ to evacuate the town!" One hissed, defeating the point of whispering by doing it loudly. "We won’t last if there’s another attack-”

“Pardon me, but your village was attacked?” Ana was then immediately was beside them, all of her attention focused on their plight. The Witch sighed. It was useless to get involved, and right when-

“Yes!” The healthier man of the two grabbed onto the horse’s saddle that Ana was mounted on. “Some crazy knight in blazing violet armor came bursting into our town, and before we could even get an idea of who they were or what they wanted, it was absolute chaos-!”

“Exactly! That’s exactly why you should turn back and escape like the rest of us!” The other man grabbed the other side of saddle of Ana’s horse with equal vigor.

The Witch and the Alchemist look to each other knowingly. The Witch arched an eyebrow suggestively and nodded towards the frantic villagers. 

“Tell us everything.” The Witch demanded, which was mistaken for concern by the fit villager. Each of them sighed: one in relief, one in defeat. They jogged ahead of them, leading the two women back to their establishment.

The Witch's lips pursed, intrigued to think they may have finally hit upon a serious stroke of luck. It had never occurred to the Witch that there was a slight possibility that Pharah could have come to _them._ Perhaps Ana’s daughter was even closer than they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you for all the positive comments and kudos! Truly it really motivated me to tear out an entire outline for the story, plus, give a much longer chapter. They'll probably all be around this length from here on, too. I'll try to update at least once a week, but between studies and myself moving, there may be some delays.
> 
> Oh, and in case anyone missed it: I've always loved the line from Pharah's official comic where she mentions how Ana always hated "jumping into the unknown" but that was always her own favorite part. Lol, this is me putting out a Pharmercy sort of spin on that. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Finally get to introduce Pharah in the next chapter, which I'm very excited to write!


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